


of roads and love

by Minilolli



Series: A Road Trip We Don't Deserve [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Mutual Pining, bed sharing and lots of soft staring, driving away from their problems lmao, dumb idiots on a roadtrip, i didn't plan for this to be a multichapter, jazz hands, runaway tim and jason who also joined along, shrugs emoji, the 'author doesn't know what the hell he's doing and neither do the characters!', they're both as lost as I am
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 23:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14483139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minilolli/pseuds/Minilolli
Summary: Bob Marley's playing on the radioCan I choose to feel this way for the rest of my days?This is a great unknown; open road is my homeWith your top down, we'll find the gateway to the starsInto the great unknown; Mama's a rolling stone





	1. silence in a diner

**Author's Note:**

> Once again I'm open to any comments/messages about my grammar! I should probably get a like, beta but that requires me to bother someone and uh i'm good.  
> Also, for anyone who reads this stuff: This series took an unexpected turn???? not really Im just bad at planning and do impulsive things like post a story without fully thinking it through and planning it properly so uh I had to change the storyline and plot a lot. Hahaha.  
> I'm also a busy man so it's hard for me to find the energy and time to write so this will be updated as sort of sparingly. Sorry about that :/  
> I do suggest reading the first installment of this series but you don't have to? I don't think so? I'd still do it anyway.

It takes an hour for them to finally get up from the position and Jason who breaks the silence first.

“Are you hungry?”

“I think so,” Tim replies absentmindedly. Jason looks at him and, well. Tim has ignored himself long enough that sometimes hunger just doesn’t happen even if his body needs it.

Tim thinks about it for five more seconds, counting how long it’s been since his last meal.

“Okay, yeah, I am.”

They leave Jason’s bike on the road with the keys on it. Whoever finds it will have a new bike and Jason can always get another. Tim can get him another. Hell Jason has a better one sitting somewhere in a safe garage or something.

As Jason shoves his backpack and duffel bag in the trunk of the car Tim throws him the car keys. The older man catches it with one hand and stares at it for a second almost like he was given something that offended him.

Jason holds up the bundle of keys to really inspect the offending material. There’s the car key and remote but also a cute little green alien. Jason busts out into a grin and Tim blushes a little.

“Nevada,” he says. “Or California. Somewhere between there with alien jerky.”

“I do know a couple of aliens myself,” Jason starts. “That wouldn’t like the idea of you eating them.”

“I still have some more. Do you think Clark will like it?”

Jason snorts in reply and climbs into the car. The question goes unanswered but Tim follows along not waiting for one. Minutes later Jason’s speeding down the road and messing with the radio. If it was anyone else maybe Tim would be worried about the radio tuning distracting them but he’s seen Jason take down Gotham’s most wanted while yelling at B. He has nothing to worry about.

When Jason finds a station he likes he begins humming along to the songs. Finger tapping on the steering wheel and eyes fixed on the road ahead. It’s peaceful. Tim has never heard Jason sing before. Maybe once in a mocking tone but never like this. His voice is deep, soothing, carefree. Not minding that Tim’s the audience.

It’s such a normal thing that both shocks and pleases him. His eyes move to the side of the road to keep from staring but he can’t help but glance back over to Jason. Curling himself up into a ball Tim stifles a yawn. He finds that his eyes are droopy and with the softness of Jason’s voice it’s hard to fight the heaviness of his eyes.

It’s moments later when the music stops does Jason hear the soft snore. It’s not even a loud snore just heavy breathing and he looks over to find Tim, curled up in the tightest ball that makes him looks so small and vulnerable. His head is leaning against the window in such an uncomfortable position and his head slightly bumps against the glass every time the road is slightly rocky.

He almost feels bad since Tim will wake up with just more than an achy neck but Jason also knows that if he wakes him up the younger won’t go back to sleep. He’s aware of the kid’s insomnia.

And from the bags under those eyes, he probably hasn’t been sleeping much, anyway. Not unusual.

Instead Jason takes extra care in not hitting any potholes or bumps on the road. The sun is a little blinding but he turns on the air conditioning and makes sure it’s not too strong to make the smaller bird cold. He doesn’t need to put much attention on the road anyhow as the long stretch of road has no one on it nor any winding turns. The only company he passes by is a small hare, cacti, and rocks. Maybe he’ll find an abandoned car or some wood that indicated an attempt of living in the area but it’s gone as soon as it came.

He’s allowed to look at Tim once in awhile. To watch him shift a little and loosen up. Uncurl himself from the ball slightly and lips part. It’s one of those times that the smaller man relaxes. Even then not all the way. They’ve all been trained too much and experienced more than needed to fall into deep sleep anymore. 

He doesn’t remember the last time he’s slept more than six hours and felt really rested. Always aware of his surroundings and always waking up once or twice from small noises.

Jason doesn’t know why he’s here. It was all impulse. He only heard that Tim had disappeared a week ago when Babs contacted him asking when the last time he talked to Tim. The last time, by the way, was a month and a half ago and it was because Jason needed to get a file from him and the conversation lasted two minutes.

But then Jason checked his accounts. Something in the back of his mind nagging at him to check and saw the very suspicious purchases scattered in states he’s not even at. Whatever possessed him to not tell the others is still beyond him. He won’t even get to the part where he stole someone’s bike, drove down this endless road to track Tim down, and then asked if he could join along. Part of him could say he was here to drag him home and figure out why his replacement left everything to have a spontaneous vacation. He could use it as an excuse and he got sidetracked by those pretty blue eyes filled with something he can’t quite pin down at the moment.

He should still call Dick or just...someone. He really should but something’s wrong and he has a feeling that Tim wouldn’t appreciate it. If the kid’s running away from something than what right does Jason have to ruin that? The least he could do is join him, right? Make sure he’ll be alright?

Tim only wakes up when Jason pulls over to a small town that held a huge ice cream cone shaped building. He parks near a diner. 

Stretching himself and feeling his joints pop he watches as Tim rubs his eyes, brush hair out of his face, and yawn. It takes him five minutes to register everything around him before they head into the diner. 

There’s no one else there other than a few truckers, a family, two couples, a group of teens, and an old man inside. It’s the first thing he notices. It’s pure instinct for Jason to catch the concealed gun on the holster of one of the couples and the rifle hanging on the wall behind the counter that is probably loaded. 

Tim shows no indication of it and takes a seat in a booth that’s pink and green. The waitress, a girl probably barely hitting seventeen, hands them menus and asks for their drinks. 

“Orange juice,” Jason says.

“Coffee,” Tim adds right after him.

They don’t say anything. Jason’s eyes look over to the couple who are laughing at a joke the other said. It’d help if Jason knew what to talk to Tim about because this is awkward.

“Do you guys have your orders?” The waitress pops out of nowhere. Tim doesn’t hesitate to tell her his order and Jason picks the first thing he sees on the menu.

Once she writes it all down and leaves they once again fall into silence. This time Jason’s eyes focuses on Tim who stares out the window. It takes a full minute before he realizes that the older man’s looking at him and turns to stare back. It’s been like this from the start. They’ll avoid questions to not irritate the other and only stare at each other hoping that whatever they’re reading is right.

Jason wonders if he’s doing well.

“You never answered me earlier,” Tim says first to break their silent tug of war.

“Why I’m here?” Jason asks. “Is it not obvious?”

Tim’s eyebrows scrunch together and yeah, okay. It isn’t obvious to Jason either. He has no answer for that question and definitely bullshitting this.

Jason settles back to get comfortable under Tim’s analyzing gaze. The waitress comes by to refill Tim’s cup before hitting the other tables. Tim wraps his hand, almost similar to a grubby child getting their hand on some chocolate cake, and drinks it like he didn’t already just have cup of coffee two minutes ago.

He makes no comment but files the knowledge that Tim might be a little more reliant on caffeine than he thought he was.

This time Jason speaks up first.

“So what made you snap?”

“It’s...a lot of things,” Tim shrugs. His eyes focus on something to the side, almost like he’s reliving the moment. “Nothing in particular just thought of leaving.”

“You can say Bruce. I get it.” 

Tim rolls his eyes. He doesn’t deny it though so Jason thinks it’s a win. He grins and Tim huffs. His lips turned a little in the corner. Their mood lighter, now.

He begins taking in the surroundings once again. A small diner that held neutral colors with an occasional pink, red, and green. It’s an old place, nothing that would make it special except maybe the old diner atmosphere to it.

Jason knows he’ll remember it clearly, though. Especially as the morning light shines through the window and softly on Tim giving him a clear view. Tim who stares outside and eyes still sullen from countless nights staying up. Those bags will never truly disappear. Not when he rubs them often and plans on never fixing his sleeping schedule. Probably permanent now even if he did fix his habits.

He wonders how much concealer he uses to cover it up for WE press.

There’s things Jason knows about Tim. Small things he’s immortalized in his brain and kept safely tuck in some folder. It’s small things and habits that the younger man has. Routines, quirks, pet peeves, what he smells like, how he likes his coffee, what his favorite food is, color, the scars Jason can sometimes see peaking out. Things people know and can find if they hung around him enough but there’s things Jason desires to learn more about. Information that requires more than just being around Tim Drake.

“If you have nothing else to talk about why won’t you tell me about your trip so far?” Jason suggests. He needs Tim to say something, to start a conversation and dispel this awkward stunt they both know is there.

Tim’s eyebrows scrunch together and forms his features into a face of thinking.

“Nothing much just driving, visiting diners like this, talking to people who I randomly meet, driving more, ignoring responsibilities and such.”

Jason smiles. “Avoiding the impending doom of the world around us because there’s always a shitty ass villain trying their hardest to destroy the world?”

“Yes,” Tim doesn’t hesitate. “I almost caved and went back a few times when I saw the news but….”

“But?”

“I just don’t care anymore,” Tim lets out. “I try to bother since saving people is a very important thing but I feel exhausted, Jason.”

Jason understands that. He thinks. Not to the extent of Tim who put his whole life to be a vigilante and made an identity out of being Robin but before running out of Gotham and joining the Outlaws he did have that small bout of numbness. Just a little.

“So now you watch the stars, sleep on the hood of your car or in shitty motels, and eat pancakes at diners?”

“Yeah. Sometimes pictures, too.”

Jason raises his eyebrows. “You brought your camera along?”

Tim shakes his head. “Yes and no.”

There’s a split second where Tim looks a little disappointed, maybe a wistful thought that passed by, but it disappears before Jason could pin it down.

“I didn’t. I know Alfred left a tracker in the camera so I stopped by a Best Buy to buy a cheap one. He doesn’t know that I know he put one there,” Tim explains. “It’s one of those trendy polaroid cameras.”

“Couldn’t you just take it out?”

“Well, I didn’t want to let anyone know I was gone, yet. It puts them off my trail longer. No one’s going to panic right away if the camera is still there.”

“Smart,” Jason thinks. “Everyone knows he loves that camera of his.”

It’s Jason who puts on the shit-eating grin and says, “Now, take good pictures of me. Only my good angles, Timbers.”

“That’s easier said than done,” Tim shoots back.

The waitress comes back disturbing their conversation with their plates of food. Jason’s got an omelet but it’s Tim who has this sizzling pan given to him that also includes a stack of pancakes. Without another word, they both dug into the breakfast. Except, Jason pauses to watch Tim devour his.

Now, Jason knows how to eat. Hell, he’s won a t-shirt from eating a six-pound burrito. Roy should have a picture of that somewhere. But Tim scarfs his down like he’s inhaling the thing. In minutes he’s done with half the plate and Jason feels like those pancakes aren’t part of his dessert but just part two of the appetizer.

It’s kind of amazing to watch. He wonders if Tim will also eat his plate, too, or maybe if Tim could win one of those big challenges and then ask for more. That’d be hilarious to see the people’s faces when he does.

Jason also wonders if Tim is a bottomless pit and would eat anything put in front of him. It’s something he can test out later.

Going back to his food his eyes starting to wander the place again and taking in the customers that leave and come in. The waitress, after making another round of coffee, brings them the receipt that he pays for and leaving a hefty tip. Tim gets one more cup of coffee poured and ignores Jason’s scrutinizing look.

“We’re going to need to stop to get gas,” Jason says. He watches as the waitress collects their money and starts packing up to end her shift. She gazes back at the both of them when seeing the tip. “Where we heading, Timmy?”

Tim shrugs. “I don’t know. Drive anywhere or everywhere. We’re on a road trip, Jay.”

“With no destination?”

“Nope. The best kind.”

Jason snorts and both of them get up to leave.

Tim is right, though. 

 


	2. you drive my nightmares away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But here Jason’s arms are on his lap and resting on the page of the book he was last looking at. His body is slumped over and his bangs are falling in his face. There hasn’t been any movement for half an hour now other than a snort from slightly snoring hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! life is kicking my ass but i'm here with another chapter. It's shorter than the last but uh it took a lot from me.

True to his words Tim lets Jason point to a direction and decide what road they’ll follow. They stop by a gas station to grab some snacks, water, a pack of cigarettes, and a paperback book Jason caught on a random shelf. There’s a standoff in front of the coffee machines that took a very stern look, puppy eyes, and silence that lasts four minutes with Jason losing and Tim grins in triumph and filling the large cup with coffee and sugar.

Jason likes this dynamic.

Tim takes the wheel and Jason settles in with the book. Tim turns on the radio with top hits and in a single hour it plays a single song three times. He puts down his book, after the fourth play, to give the younger boy a stare. Tim chuckles and turns it up louder. Brat.

There’s progress. Maybe. Definitely a change from earlier. Jason wonders if it’s good or bad. But that’s something they’ll figure out together when the time comes and, well, life is forgiving more often than not. He knows. Sitting here in the car with Tim is proof of that.

Tim tries not to think about it. He tries not to think about a lot of things. Even if it’s hard because his head likes to run circles and never shut up but the music, shuffling of Jason adjusting his body to the seat and flipping the pages helps. Hell, Jason being there is more than good. Before Tim thought he needed to be alone, to just drive and go nowhere and he’ll figure it all out. Jason’s presence is shaking that resolve.

The sun goes from the middle of the sky and then to the West making the sky red. They pass through construction work signs, small bumps, welcome signs, and police cars. It takes Jason a couple of them to realize that yes, Timmer’s speeding and he’s pressing on the breaks then speeding up again when they’re a safe distance away from the police car.

Jason wouldn’t even care if he sped past a police car but then again Tim’s trying not to be found and having the police pull them over isn’t really part of the plan. It’d be an easy way to get someone on their tail and catching up with them in no time.

The road adjusts from two lanes to three then down to one and they’ll barely see a decent building for miles. It’s peaceful just seeing so much bare land. Almost makes everything too simple but also too precious. Too much but too little all at the same time. Like their work doesn’t matter here. Out here there’s no crime, no drugs, nothing that could affect them but they both have seen too much to know that if they didn’t protect what they can this could disappear. All of this.

It creates a small notion that the world is theirs. The whole place belongs to them and nothing could disturb this as there’s nothing left. Nothing to stop them. That notion disappears when a truck or not abandoned building comes into sight.

Tim’s shakes himself from the thought process and asks Jason for the bag of chips from earlier. Taking advantage of cruise control Tim sets the speed and hoists his leg up and tucked under his other to settle his bag of chips in the small loop it makes. The first time Tim attempted this a few weeks ago he almost drove off the road but he’s gotten the hang of it now.

He’s also learned how to use his foot to steer the wheel but Jason wouldn’t appreciate that. Not yet, at least. It’s useful when Tim wants to eat a sandwich and the road stretches straight long enough for him to take a couple of bites.

The sky is changing colors and it casts beautiful shades and hues towards the land. Jason’s head has fallen to the side squishing his cheeks onto his shoulder, book abandoned on his lap, mouth slightly open, and body completely slack in relaxation.

It’s a soft sight. Almost silly with Jason’s cheek puffing out and Tim tries to fight the grin off his face. He puts his foot on the wheel and holds the steering wheel steady to quickly reach behind his seat and snatch his camera before coming back to grab onto the wheel again. He makes sure he’s safe before fumbling with the polaroid, eyes on the road, before slowing down to a safe speed where he can catch a quick picture of Jason.

The camera makes a soft shuttering noise before the sound of the film comes out. As the film is developing he drops the camera in one of the cup holders. Once it comes out he snatches it and out of habit with the older films he shakes it to let it air before taking a quick look at it. Eyes darting back and forth between the road and the picture.

It’s a little bit shaky but that’s fine with him. There’s a stripe of the yellow sunset across Jason’s torso and his face is slightly darkened in the shadow but the details are still there. The peacefulness, the softness, even the calm on Jason’s face still shows.

It’s not a professional picture. Not even close to what he could do but there, in the small squared film, the moment is captured and with its grainy quality something else is memorialized with it. Tim tucks the photo in the compartment where the armrest is. Tim checks the time, memorizing it to write on the back of the photo later.

He hasn’t seen Jason sleep so soundly before. Not even during the worst nights when sleep only lasted two hours but they need it because later on that day they might never have the chance of waking up again. It makes those moments of sleep and standing next to each other that much more valuable.

Jason’s chest rises and his breathing is even and heavy. There’s a twitch but he settles down in whatever dream he’s having. Eyes moving back and forth under the eyelids and lips moving to mouth something.

Jason doesn’t sleep. Hell, Tim wants to sleep most nights but Jason stays up intentionally. Whatever haunts him keeps him from resting and maybe in the months where he runs around with the Outlaws and away from Gotham he’s healing. Being away could possibly have helped him more than anyone else in the foggy city could. It’s sad but here Jason is, sleeping so peacefully he almost envies it.

He’s happy that Jason isn’t twisting and turning. Not clenching his hands and scrunching his face up in pain or anger. Eyes under the eyelids darting back and forth in panic. Sometimes waking up with green-blue eyes clouded in emotions that Jason will never talk about. It’ll go away when he realizes where he is and it’ll take 30 minutes before he’ll relax.

Tim knows those mornings. Too familiar with those mornings. They’ve been on overnight missions before. He’s learned that Jason doesn’t sleep with blankets but with a pillow to wrap his body around. It’ll get discarded and he’ll bolt upright on his bed, fists clenching the sheets and his other hand most likely looking for a weapon.

He hasn’t been on the other end of the knife but he knows people who have.

But here Jason’s arms are on his lap and resting on the page of the book he was last looking at. His body is slumped over and his bangs are falling in his face. There hasn’t been any movement for half an hour now other than a snort from slightly snoring hard.

Tim’s happy to be sitting next to the man and witnessing this. Whatever this is it’s important. He doesn’t want to let it go.

He settles back into his seat and continues driving. Continues going down the road where Jason serenely sleeps next to him and sure, maybe Tim lowers the music and puts on something softer or slows his driving down so the roads aren’t as bumpy and the feeling of the ride is a little consistent. Maybe he doesn’t stop by the gas station, even though the need for caffeine building up. Maybe he passes it anyway to keep Jason resting just a little longer. One more hour, one more minute, one more second just to keep driving and letting those nightmares leave him alone just a little longer.

Tim keeps going. He keeps driving, drawing this moment out even after the sun has set behind them and the stars in the sky peek out from the blanket of darkness. No other lights than the moon and twinkling of stars follow them but Jason sleeps through it all and he relaxes to the sound of the other man’s snores.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, yes someone can drive with their foot on the wheel. I had a friend named Jillian who would do it and one time they put their foot on the wheel and attempted to grab something from the back and it was one of the most terrifying moments of my life. DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS AT ANY TIME POSSIBLE.  
> Find me on tumblr at [galaxyofgays](http://galaxyofgays.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Comments and Kudos are welcome!!


	3. are we there yet?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are too many missions, too many dangerous criminals and villains, and too many time and universe traveling for them not to have shared sleeping spaces. Especially because Jason can stand Tim compared to the others so more often than not he’s stuck with wannabe boy wonder. But nights like that are rare since they both don’t work together often anyway. If a Red Hood and Red Robin team up were rare then nights spent together should sound like fiction. But it’s happened more than once and Jason’s grateful they have their routine down already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so if you've noticed i've added tags and changed the description! I became unsatisfied with it so i changed it a;lkjafdgh anyway this is such a long chapter and this is the fastest i've written in ages! holy shit! i'm excited

Jason dreams of rock music, freeways with lights flashing past, and a hand in his. Pale, nimble, and thumb rubbing over his absentmindedly. They’re not soft but he can’t pin it quite down since he’s never really had that hand in his in reality.

It’s also a dream so details aren’t relevant he just knows he’s holding a very specific hand.

It’s a dream he’s never had before. One he, surprisingly, doesn’t want to wake up from.

He does anyway because he’s Jason Todd and sleep, no matter if it’s eternal or not, is not meant for him. Yet.

He wakes slowly. It’s a groggy process and not a sudden jolt of awareness that comes during missions and, well, everyday life. If anything, he’s so unused to it that he hates how his mouth tastes gross and mushy and body stiff from the position he kept. Even if he seems fully rested the heaviness of waking up is jarring and he frowns as he stretches. He only wakes up like this if he’s really sleeping and his brain acknowledges that there’s no danger nearby. It’s unusual.

The sky is dark now. The road isn’t as empty anymore as it’s opened up a few more lanes, looks new, and a few cars drive with them. In the distance, he can see the soft glow of light pollution and city smog.

He looks over at Tim who’s chewing on his lips and blearily rubbing his eye. When he isn’t kneading at them he’s blinking a little rapidly and it’s more than enough to tell Jason that he’s tired.

“Next motel you see pull over,” Jason instructs.

“I'm not tired Jason,” Tim immediately says. Rolling his eyes he turned his whole body to face Tim. “There’s no more coffee and the two bags of chips we bought are empty in your lap. Bold of you to also assume I wouldn’t wrestle the wheel out of your hands.”

Tim makes a slight high pitched whine. He isn’t ready to sleep. Ever. But he could use a shower and get out of sitting in a car for a few hours. Maybe go for a jog or something. Run the energy out of him. Perhaps then he’ll sleep.

“Fine, but I get the shower first.”

“Whatever floats your boat, Babybird.”

It takes them 15 minutes to find a shoddy motel that has a bright green and yellow neon sign out in front. Even if it was 10 at night the pool was lit and occupied by lingering adults and rebellious teens as they pass by. The attendant in front said there wasn’t enough for them to get two rooms but a room with two beds is available. Not like Jason and Tim haven’t shared a room before.

There are too many missions, too many dangerous criminals and villains, and too many time and universe traveling for them not to have shared sleeping spaces. Especially because Jason can stand Tim compared to the others so more often than not he’s stuck with wannabe boy wonder. But nights like that are rare since they both don’t work together often anyway. If a Red Hood and Red Robin team up were rare then nights spent together should sound like fiction. But it’s happened more than once and Jason’s grateful they have their routine down already.

They generally do it in companionable silence. The companionable silence that sometimes starts small talk about the mission or to make sure the other isn’t injured that then ends up with sleep. Well, their form of sleeping. Jason’s silent movements around their sleeping area whether it’s to read or clean his weapons. Hell, he once learned how to shuffle cards on one of their nights. Jason’s merely attempting to get exhausted enough to not dream.

Tim usually works. He’ll work on WE stuff, create new materials Jason can steal after a hack in the system later, reports he hadn’t finish, cracking cold cases, doing whatever that brain does and Tim will do it until his head is down on the keyboards and whatever document has pages worth of a single letter going on and on. Only once has Tim’s laptop ran out of batteries and the black screen reflects the pitiful scene before him.

The only time he’s tucked Tim into bed. It had amazed him how light Tim weighed and thinking back on it now with the knowledge of him eating like a vacuum it’s shocking. Astounding. Astonishing. Jason’s fucking dumbfounded.

There’s none of that work here, though. Tim’s hair is still wet from the shower but the laptop he has sits in the trunk of the car and his phone can do so much. He can play so many games before he gets restless. He can’t work on WE reports, work on cases, can’t hack anything, not even contact any of his friends. That’s his fault, though. He did this to himself and, well, for now he’d rather deal with boredom than try to contact anyone he knows. Anything but hear Bruce’s voice ask about his whereabouts or Bart’s mile-long questions.

So the crappy TV is turned on and Tim attempts to watch the reruns of Wheel of Fortune, NCIS, and Law & Order: Special Victims.

Jason exits the bathroom and raises an eyebrow as Ice T kicks open a door and enters the apartment room.

“Are these the ones with Stabler?” Jason asks.

“Yeah. Just watched him beat up a pedophile.”

“The best character in the show.”

Tim snorts and watches Jason settle in the bed closest to the window. He opens his bag to pull out the book he had earlier and settles his lower half under the covers.

Silence except for the noise of TV fills the room. Lights are dimmed on Tim’s side and it doesn’t take long for the smaller man to fall into a trance where his breathing’s even and eyelids are dropping but his mind is too aware of the television screen and voices coming out of it. He’s not fully resting but his brain has shut down somewhat. He’s on some train of thought that will eventually lead him to sleep.

It’s the noise of people outside their room that pulls him out of it. He flinches and his heart rate increases to a level right under panic. The rush of adrenaline is unwanted and when he realizes his surroundings and what’s happened he’s back to square one.

It takes him all his willpower to not let out a long sigh. His muscle’s sluggish now from the slow blood flow from earlier. He doesn’t want to get up and go jogging but he’s wide awake now. It doesn’t surprise him but it still fucking sucks.

Tim doesn’t realize Jason’s moved until the mattress is dipping and the blanket’s being lifted from where it’s tightly tucked.

“Move over,” Jason grunts. Tim groans as he follows the command.

“What are you doing Jason?” Tim asks.

“We got a room for you to rest and I’ll be damned if you don’t fucking rest.”

“Fuck off,” Tim snaps. There’s movement in the bed where Jason’s getting comfortable and Tim’s trying to figure out what the hell the bigger man’s doing and after much grumbling, cussing, and snarky verbal shots Jason’s patting the area next to him.

“Come on. Roy has insomnia too and this helps him.”

“I’m not Roy, though.”

“At least try it, Tim,” he insists. Tim looks at Jason, eyes scanning the man and he relents when he realizes the other man isn’t going to go away.

Tim scoots closer and lets arms wrap around him.

Even with the place’s shampoo Jason still smells of slight cigarette and gunpowder. The stuff embedded into his skin now, probably. But underneath it all, after Tim’s adjusted and warm, he can get a hint of vanilla and mint. A weird combination.

Jason’s chest rises and falls so Tim puts his head closer. Their legs touch and Tim unravels enough to press himself closer to the Red Hood. Jason hums and his body rumbles with it. He closes his eyes letting his senses focus on the heat, vibrations, breathing, weight, and heartbeat.

Jason’s hand unconsciously rubs his back and somehow that’s what gets Tim to fall asleep.

His last thoughts are whether or not this helps Jason, too. If it grounds him, also.

 

Morning comes as a surprise for Tim. His schedule, no matter what, consists of him waking up exactly at 4:00 AM Eastern time US & Canada. No matter what. It’s internalized in him and he’ll always open his eyes right on the dot but right now it’s 7:53 AM Pacific time.

He feels groggy, even disoriented. His body is relaxed and there’s soft snoring right behind. Warm and something solid that holds him close. It almost lures him back to sleep except….

Jason. Jason Jason Jason JasonJasonJasonJason.

For the first time since he’s joined, and maybe because Tim’s actually got a full night of sleep, Tim’s heart rate increases and beats loudly. A blush starts heating up his face and he tries his best not to squirm.

Fuck his body. His body has done nothing but sabotages him from day one. The second he was conceptualized.

He has to get up. Excuse himself and try not to wake Jason up so he can relieve himself in peace. The sooner the better.

Tim shifts a little to try and get the arm wrapped around his waist to loosen. Tim’s a noodle for god’s sake he can slip out, right?

He does something stupid by turning his whole body in hopes of Jason’s arm falling off of him. It works but now Tim’s facing him and god is Jason a heater or something? Why is he radiating so much energy?

It doesn’t help the situation in his pants as he gets a full sight of Jason. Jason who’s wearing a white shirt that isn’t tight but it looks so good on him. Even when the shirt is rising up and bundling on his chest. There are scars there, so many that have faded or are fading. Tim knows some of it and a very blood lacking part of his brain wants to trace his tongue over them. He shifts his hips a little.

Not the time.

Tim swallows and he looks up to Jason’s face. He feels his heart stutter and hands become clammy. His tongue runs over his teeth then over his lips.

He wants to kiss Jason. Jason’s lips that are parted as he snores and face set in the peace just like earlier during the car ride. If Tim opened the curtains just a little to let some light in then the position of Jason’s body and face would be perfect for a shot. Even the colors of the room, the sheets, and clothes give off a feeling that makes him want to keep this forever.

Forever before this ends. Because he knows, they both know, that this isn’t going to last. That they have a whole city to protect and a world full of people that are out to get them. Just because they can take on some alien invasion without them once doesn’t mean they can go without them the second time.

They’re needed. More than anything they’re needed but right now, right in this room in the early mornings, Tim wants to stay like this forever.

Even with the tent in his pants.

He scoots off without moving Jason much and silently makes his way into the bathroom. If the thought of cum on long eyelashes and fainted freckles on skin appears in his mind as he orgasms he shuffles it away in mind for late night thoughts. He’ll dissect it later. Later. Not right now. It’s something future Tim can bother with.

These emotions of attraction he’s had for Jason. The one that made him say yes to the other man’s proposal, to drive slower and more carefully as the man sleeps, to do some reckless driving so he can take a picture, and even humor Jason when he insisted on sleeping in the same bed as him. Hell, maybe a part of Tim was eager to be wrapped up in the older man’s arms.

He washes himself off enough to get the smell of sex off of him and he comes out finding Jason’s sitting up on the bed. His hair is messy. The curls in his hair have formed and he’s slow to get up and there’s a look of confusion on his face. Jason’s stumbling towards the bathroom and Tim moves out of the way for him.

Who knew Jason Todd was not a morning person?

They get ready to leave and stop by a diner nearby. The tables are smaller than normal so, much to Tim’s luck, he’s more than aware of their knees bumping together and the way Jason’s eyes roam around the room and back to him over and over again.

Something’s opened and it’s spilling out all over Tim’s thought process. He wants to curse himself out.

If Jason notices Tim’s scowl he doesn’t mention it. He is, though, still in awe as Tim digs into his plate and chugging down three cups of coffee. It’s Jason who has the milkshake and is drinking it idly. He’s bouncing his leg and enjoying his sugary breakfast.

There’s a different tone this morning. Was it from the hours of rest they actually got for once or has something come out in the open? Jason doesn’t know but he’s not really complaining. Not when he pushes his eggs onto Tim’s plate who raises an eyebrow but eats them anyway.

Jason likes this. Likes the atmosphere they’re building themselves. How Tim already looks better than he did yesterday morning. His bags might not disappear and the kid will spend the rest of his Wayne Enterprises appearances covering them up with makeup but there’s a slight blush on his face and a rumpled look to him that tells Jason that Red Robin isn’t here. This is only Tim. No Wayne, no Drake, no Robin, no Red Robin, no nothing other than Tim.

It’s raw. So raw.

He wishes he could immortalize this. Somehow burn it in his brain and during bad days can come back to this where nothing else mattered. Joker, Bruce, Talia, Ra’s, whatever haunted their past couldn’t touch them here. They’ve gone way out of their way to do it but shit Jason’s going to miss this when it all ends.

“How old are you now, Babybird?” Jason asks as he pays the waiter.

“Twenty just last month.”

“How well do you hold your alcohol?”

Tim frowns. “I’m not going to drink with you.”

“Come on, Timbers,” Jason insists. “It’s too early right now but we’re on a road trip to nowhere. You’re allowed to drink.”

“I’m twenty,” Tim deadpans.

They get in the car and Jason’s taking the wheel. They have to stop by a gas station.

“So? You telling me you didn’t drink during all those galas you’ve attended? All that expensive champagne went to waste? None of it touched those pretty lips of yours?”

“That’s different, Jay.”

“Is it, really?” Jason turns his whole body to face Tim so his face expressions are appreciated. “A couple shots won’t hurt you. I’ll make sure neither of us drives for the rest of the night. Just one night. Big Daddy Brucie won’t burst through the door to lecture you.”

Tim stares at Jason. His face stays in the state of disapproval but then he slumps his shoulders and hangs his head a little.

“Fine. One night, Jason. What Bruce doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

If Jason’s laugh rings in the air and tightens Tim’s chest then so be it. So be it. Tim can let himself go only for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me at [Galaxyofgays](http://galaxyofgays.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Comment and Kudos are welcome! Encouraged even!


	4. Alcohol and Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But they’re anonymous here out in the western desert where biker gangs line their rides outside and the town’s people sit with old friends on tables they’ve occupied for years. They all give the both of them a glance before returning to whatever sport is on the TV or pool game they were watching. The only people who bother looking longer than two seconds are the bartender and a couple of waiters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a hefty chapter lmao. sorry it took me so long to update but time escaped me and i didn't realize it's almost been a whole month ya know but enjoy!  
> i'm really unsure of this chapter a;lksdahg;lmsdf

They arrive in a decent sized city, hours and miles later. It’s twilight and the sky’s turning to a dark blue. It’s Yelp they use to see local bars they can go to in the city. There’s one that has four stars with six reviews.

It’s on the outskirt of town and when entering the inhabitants mostly ignore them. It feels normal. Much too casual compared to the usual visit in spandex where all eyes are on them and a tension of a fight two seconds away from happening to hang in the air. Other times it’s without the mask but Tim catches too much attention since everyone recognizes Tim Drake-Wayne, Wayne Enterprises’ new Wayne face. 

But they’re anonymous here out in the western desert where biker gangs line their rides outside and the town’s people sit with old friends on tables they’ve occupied for years. They all give the both of them a glance before returning to whatever sport is on the TV or pool game they were watching. The only people who bother looking longer than two seconds are the bartender and a couple of waiters. 

They take a seat in a corner and Tim feels prepared enough to not fumble ordering a drink. He’s been to a bar before on missions but the most he’s had is a beer. Mostly for looks considering being drunk on the job is never good. Jason, though, says a fancy tropical drink without hesitation and sends a dazzling grin at the waitress.

He’s not flirting. Not seriously. It’s only a flash of a smile that lets the lady relax and helps settle him in the atmosphere. A comforting gesture to tell her he isn’t here to be creepy and a habit he’s picked up from going to bars out of his helmet. 

She sashays away after returning the gesture.

Jason’s been to bars numerous times. It’s part of his winding down routine once a week and the bar in a small corner of his main apartment back in Gotham knows him both in and outside the mask. They also know Roy, Kori, Bizarro, Artemis, Rose, Sasha, and even Dick.

Here, in this bar, he fits. With his torn jeans and black jacket that Tim would bet his whole leg has a couple of knives in it. His white streak and cocky grin could fade into the background but it’s Jason and Tim knows, deep deep down he is aware of how Jason Todd is a beacon of light. The man can disappear and use those skills of his to blend in but he couldn’t hide from the smaller man and it’s almost foolish to think otherwise. 

But Tim isn’t ready for those thoughts and really he probably never will be ready. 

He takes a large gulp of his drink. The hockey game playing on TV rises in noise as someone scores a goal and the replays of the puck being shot into the net starts. Some people in the bar make a noise of celebration and by the time it dies down Tim can detect the alcohol run through his veins with a nice buzz.

He doesn’t focus on his thoughts and has successfully pushed any bad thinking away to hyper-fixate on his surroundings that isn’t Jason. The less he is aware of the other man the less likely he’ll say something stupid. If his attention stays on hockey or how the bartender is definitely not listening to one of the guest's drone on and on about something then it’ll be good. It’ll all be okay.

Of course it’s the Wayne Enterprise logo on a commercial and Lucius’s face that reels Tim back to reality. Back to Gotham and all the responsibilities he’s left behind and maybe he should contact the Titans because-

Jason’s knee nudges his own and the simple contact lands him back in the booth they’re occupying. To Jason whose pink drink is down to only a fourth of a cup and straw still between his lips. He’s leaning back having slid down his seat and looking the most relaxed person in the place. It’s almost a silly sight.

A scene that makes Tim’s throat constrict because Jason, here, is actively vulnerable to him. He’s never seen the other man so at ease other than when he’s asleep. But he’s awake, in front of him, body loose and an eyebrow quirked on his face silently asking if Tim’s alright.

Tim isn’t okay. Not when Jason’s pushing so many fucking boundaries in two days that it’s almost a little too quick for him.

He blurts the first thing his mind can find.

“I...I hope Lucius is doing okay.” 

Jason’s eyebrows scrunches in confusion. “Lucius Fox? The guy who does all the work Bruce doesn’t do?”

“Yeah, Lucius,” Tim says. “Ever since I took over and Bruce never like, you know, bothered coming back I tried to do things to help Lucius out. I’m not there to go to meetings or sign papers like take some of the load off. He works so hard.”

Jason snorts into his drink. 

“Is this what’s been bothering you?”

“No? Sort of? Part of it.” Tim shrugs. “I don’t know I feel guilty for leaving him like that. I mean, ever since I took over I rarely took vacations! The other board members rarely took me seriously until Neon Knights went international and I strategically put funding into a project in R&D that spit out good publicity for years to come and I have to keep that good image since I don’t even have a business degree. Never took a single business class and they’re so...so….”

“Uptight? Haughty? Anal?”

“Anal!” Tim almost shouts. He blushes and settles down again hoping no one heard him yell anal. Jason doesn’t hold back his laugh, though. Even with the noise of the bar, his voice drowns everything away. Is he drunk? Is this Jason Todd drunk? Why didn’t Tim agree to drink with him earlier if this is what the older man would look and act like?

“And like, they know I’m better than Bruce! Bruce was so useless. Barely came to meetings, ignored phone calls, and only keep up with things when he has time. Lucius works so hard and I made sure I prepared as much as possible before leaving but still. Still!”

Jason waves it off and finishes off his pink slush before saying, “He’s dealt with a company by himself before he can do it now.”

“That was when Lucius was younger, though,” Tim whines. “I honestly think I took some years with some stunts I’ve pulled like that one time Tam and I were supposedly engaged.”

“Didn’t you get shot during that time period?”

“Fake shot. I had to wear braces everywhere for a whole year, Jason. A whole year of faking it.”

“And other things that happened during that year,” Tim thinks. He almost grimaces with the memories. 

He orders another glass of his drink and almost cradles it. The bar’s atmosphere has blurred and Bruce would be so disappointed if he saw how tipsy Tim is now.

“Bruce can go fuck himself,” Jason replies. Tim blinks and his vision focuses on Jason. Did he say his thoughts out loud?

“You’re...not wrong.”

“Am I ever wrong?”

Tim snorts. “Yes. All the time Jason.”

“See, now that’s just slander.”

“It’s still true!”

“Sure, Babybird.”

“Sure, Babybird,” Tim mocks. He straightens a little and holds up an invisible cigarette. “I’m Jason Todd, I wield dangerous weapons and think blowing up buildings is a good idea. I smoke and dress like some hooligan.”

“Oh, I’m a hooligan now?” Jason asks. He tilts his head and parodies an offended stance with his hand on his chest. 

“A delinquent,” Tim boasts. “A punk. The biggest loser I know.”

“Okay, I’m thinking you’ve had too much of that if you’re saying I’m a loser now.” Jason points to the drink. Tim pulls it closer to him knowing full well Jason can still reach it easily but he’ll have to be cautious of Tim’s tendency to bite.

“Nope. You still haven’t gotten a second or even a third drink yet, Jason. I feel taken advantage of.”

“I’m trying to be responsible.”

“Well...stop!” Tim demands. “We’re on a road trip. No more responsibilities or any of that stuff.” 

Jason huffs but orders another drink for himself. Tim munches on the basket of fries in front of him as the drink is set on the table when he notices the other man’s silence. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” He offers. He pushes the basket of fries over, remembering how Jason had an affinity for potatoes. 

“How are you so comfortable with all of this?” Jason inquires. “You’re taking my intrusion in like I’m not the last person you’d want to take on this trip.” 

Tim bites on his lip. Something in his stomach curls with unease as he attempts to put his thoughts into words for him to express. He shifts in his seat and leans marginally closer.

“You’re...Jason, you’re not an intrusion at all,” Tim confesses. “I...I realized that the second you asked to join I looked forward to it. I didn’t even hesitate to say yes because it really did sound like a good idea. Even if it’s only been like two days you’ve made this trip better.” 

“Tim, you don’t have to-”

“I’m not forced to say anything,” Tim insists. “I’m tipsy but this is the truth. I did need an out from whatever is happening in Gotham and all of what I was juggling but I shouldn’t have done it alone and I think you coming along was an amazing decision. Like, thank you for asking. Whatever brought you to chase me down to the middle of nowhere deserves a gift basket for the next ten years.” 

Jason shuts his mouth. He’s tense and unmoving. No emotions appear on his face but Tim thinks he looks pretty lost. Maybe something’s cracked and Tim really shouldn’t have said that out loud. Perhaps it was too soon for him to confess like that but it’s out and he has to own it. He has to face the consequences. 

A whole minute passes before Jason moves. He drowns his drink and abruptly stands up. Tim watches him leave the bar and he can experience the regret eat at him. He’s made a mistake and okay, yeah, alcohol sounds like a really good idea right now. 

Tim doesn’t even get the glass up to his lips when Jason comes back in. There’s a wild look to his eyes and he won’t look straight at Tim as he slides back into the booth. Silence follows them as the hockey game ends and some people moan and groan about the lost and file out of the bar. 

Seeing Jason still sit in front of him, though, speeds up his heart and it’s better than nothing.

“You’re...I hate how you can just say that,” Jason confesses. “I just spit whatever comes out when I’m shooting a guy in the kneecaps.”

“That sounds about right,” Tim adds. He gets a glare from Jason and smiles back in return. 

“Shut up. You aren’t that much better.”

“Still better than you. But we can both agree B is worst.”

“No fucking doubt about that,” Jason agrees. “But still, I don’t know how to respond to this.”

Tim starts chewing on his lip, letting the statement hang in the air for a second. It takes a few seconds for him to form the words. “You don’t have to. I really needed to say that. Maybe it’s not like, all of it and I still have to explain myself but right now that needed to come out. You don’t have to respond.”

Jason lets out a huff of air and runs his hand through his hair. His curls are sticking out from that mohawk he has going on and Tim knows he’ll never get tired of waxing poetry about Jason Todd on the down-low. 

“Let’s drink to it then,” Jason calls for another round of drinks and they both take big gulps to whatever this thing they’ve created. 

The few conversations they have is a little bit of a blur to Tim. He doesn’t exactly remember the words or details of what they talk about but he retains bits and pieces like how Jason and Roy hate airports. Artemis and he aren’t talking at the moment. Bizarro’s death and revival. Jason coming back to Gotham. Sasha disappearing.

It’s Tim who notices it first. It’s by the way the waitress comes to their table with another round of drinks and hesitates, vaguely nervous, as she heads to the booth behind Jason to greet the three men and hand them their drinks. They had arrived later than them by a few minutes but definitely had more to drinks at this point. 

Tim isn’t attuned to the body language women give off when creeps are nearby for the women he hangs around with aren’t afraid to lash out but he can tell how bad the men are if he’s noticing. It becomes more obvious when he tracks a hand coming out to hold the waitress on her waist then trail down to her butt. 

“Can you not touch me, please,” she says. Her voice wavers but it’s loud enough he can hear it through the ambiance of the bar. 

Jason’s also caught onto what’s gotten Tim’s attention and his head turns slightly to witness the scene and string of words that makes Tim stand up. 

“Oh come on, sweetie. It was just a touch. I’m only appreciating the assets.”

There’s laughter from the other two men that follow immediately once the sentence is uttered. The waitress’s face immediately flushes to a red and Tim’s taking steps towards them. He reaches for the hand still on the woman and pulls it away.

“She said not to touch her,” Tim interrupts. He’s surprised his voice is almost the same voice he uses as Red Robin. 

“Hey!” The man yanks his hand back. “Mind your own damn business kid.”

“No.”

“No?” The guy challenges. He stands and is taller than Tim. As tall as Bruce and looking like one of the brutes who Joker would hire to make the job that much more harder.

Tim’s had years of experiences against guys like him, though. 

“I ain’t afraid of no beef,” he thinks. “I am afraid of Batman but you’re not anywhere close to being Bruce.”

It’s definitely because Tim’s drunk that he doesn’t move fast enough to avoid a punch entirely but he only stumbles, still on his feet. He can tell it’s impressive by the shock on the guy’s face and he retaliates. He’s trained with Lady Shiva, hell he was god damn fucking Robin for years and spent months proving to Bruce that he could be Robin. 

Being drunk won’t stop him from throwing a punch back. The guy may be taller but Tim’s faster, smarter, and has the element of surprise. He aims for the stomach then the face. There’s a loud crack as his fist connects to a cheekbone and the man is the on the ground. Adrenaline runs through his veins and he knows there’s a bruise forming on his face and his knuckles are a little sore.

Jason’s standing by their booth remotely dumbfounded and the waitress stands by with shock on her face. 

Alcohol really is liquid courage.

He spits on the brute and looks at his companions. They’re pissed and Tim finds himself glad that they are. He feels so fucking alive as he slams one of the guys on the table, thankfully not breaking it, and enjoying the sensation of being punched in the face.

He sort of misses being a vigilante but he’d rather be nostalgic than actually be Red Robin at the moment. Being a random civilian beating up perverts is a good enough replacement for him.

The first guy’s gotten up somewhere along the line of Tim beating up his friends and he steps behind him. It’s Jason though who throws a punch that ends the fight entirely and Tim’s standing there, heavily breathing as Jason shakes his hand.

“You didn’t need to,” Tim almost groans out.

“I wanted in on the fun too!”

Tim assess his surrounding. The bar has gone quiet and he can see someone recording him so he hopes his face is blurry enough to not have the Wayne PR team’s wrath put upon him. 

The waitress stands a little stunned and he has the audacity to ask if she’s okay. She stutters through an affirmation that, yes, she is okay.

“Sorry about that,” he does not shyly say. 

“It’s okay. Thank you, I don’t know what I’d’ve done,” she admits. “And I don’t think Gus minds?”

Her voice is louder at the end to reach the bartender. 

The bartender, Gus, immediately yells back, “It’s fine! You didn’t break the table!”

Figures the owner of the bar doesn’t like people harassing his workers either and the next round of drinks is free once they clean up the slight mess.

“I know I’m giving this place five stars on Yelp,” Jason says. 

“Shut up,” Tim groans. He got a nice ice pack for his face and he shouldn’t drink more alcohol but hell he’s not going to work tomorrow and it’s free.

They don’t stay long after that and head for the exit. Jason leaves a hundred on the table. The cold air that hits them as they exit is so refreshing that it sobers Tim up enough. His brain replays the past couple hours to immortalize the words and all the information he’s gotten from Jason into his brain. Even if they’re forced to go back to whatever Gotham has to offer to them at least Tim could remember this night with as much detail as possible. Fight and everything, too.

They stumble to the car knowing full well they’re not going to drive. Tim offers to get a Lyft and pick up the car tomorrow but Jason pulls him closer and leans on the hood of the car. The mood’s changed and it’s almost like Tim didn’t just get into a bar fight and is sporting bruises on his face.

They stay like that. The city’s light pollution and smog cover the stars in the sky but the half-full moon still shines brightly.

Even with the cold air and breeze, Jason’s running warm. Tim’s pressing up against him as he’s already a little chilly. The body heat is more than welcomed.

They take a breather and it’s Jason that pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He offers Tim one who only stares back at him causing the taller man to chuckle. He returns to trying to light the one in his mouth. The flame illuminates his face and he curses when he fumbles with it briefly.

Again, silence takes them but stops as they turn their attention to a group of men coming out of the bar with a ruckus. Their laughter and voices echo as they all stumble into a car with someone, who they both hope, is the designated driver.

When the car leaves Tim turns to Jason who stares back at him. Cigarette almost forgotten in his lips. It’s Jason’s eyes and face slack with something that gives him the idea. Liquid fucking courage indeed.

He leans in and plucks the cig out of Jason’s mouth. He pushes on his toes to press his lips up against soft lips. Tim personally knows Jason likes to put chapstick on and there’s a tube of the stuff in his back pocket. If Tim had an oral fixation he’d blame it all on Jason Todd’s lips. 

Tim gasps when he senses a hand snake around his waist and pull him closer. Soft lips move against his and he can taste fruity alcohol and mint. It’s sweet and everything he could get addicted to.

Hell, Jason could taste like chili dogs and coffee or whatever gross combination the man could come up with for lunch and Tim would kiss him endlessly. 

They only break apart to stop when Tim flinches at Jason’s teeth grazing Tim’s busted lip. 

“Shit, sorry.”

“S’okay,” he slurs. “Keep going.”

From there Tim knows they took a Lyft to a nearby motel. Both stumbling to the room with a single bed and without another glance throw their bags to the ground and land on the bed. It creaks under them but neither cares as they continue to make out. 

Jason’s strips his jacket and he’s straddling Tim who feels like no matter how much he breathes in he couldn’t get enough oxygen. At this point, he’d rather suffocate than stop kissing Jason for even a minute.

They do stop somewhere late in the night and Jason’s suddenly waking up to a loud knocking on the door. It’s insistent and annoying and his pounding headache isn’t helping at all. He’s glad the curtains are closed so no light blinds him when he opens his eyes to glare at the door. He groans when he turns to look at the time. 9:38 AM. His arm is numb and when looking down he notices the fluff of black hair and a body curled up against his.

It takes a little longer than it should for Jason to remember the night’s events and god Tim knew how to fucking work that tongue of his. How incredibly hot he was when throwing punches like that. He slides out as carefully as possible but quickly because that fucking knocking is really getting on his nerves.

There’s a bubble of relief that pops inside Jason when he realized they’re both still fully clothed and the room still smells like crappy motel clean. 

He rips open the door to see a head of a blonde. He blinks, taking in the short girl in front of him. She stares back with a fight burning in her eyes and shuts the door before Blondie could even attempt to barge through. 

“Fucking shit.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who shows up the next chapter!!!  
> Find me on tumblr at [Galaxyofgays](http://galaxyofgays.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> the alternate name for the chapter was "two bats, sitting in a diner 3 feet apart cause they're not gay"  
> Comments and Kudos are welcome! :)  
> Find me on Tumblr at [Galaxyofgays](http://galaxyofgays.tumblr.com)


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